


Crossing Paths

by holyfudgemonkeys (erraticallyinspired)



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: 2000s Slang, Alpha Ainsley Whitly, Alpha Dani Powell, Alpha Jackie Arroyo, Alpha Jessica Whitly, Alpha Vijay Chandasara, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beta Eve Blanchard, Beta JT Tarmel, Boarding School, Bonding, Car Sex, Childhood Friends, Episode Related, Episode: s01e16 The Job, Feral Malcolm Bright, First Meetings, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Gil Arroyo Acting as Malcolm Bright's Parental Figure, I couldn't NOT have them fuck on the Porsche mmkay, Jealousy, M/M, Malcolm Bright Gets a Hug, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, More tags to be added, Mutual Pining, Omega Gil Arroyo, Omega Malcolm Bright, Omega Martin Whitly, Protective Gil Arroyo, Reunions, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Scenting, Sex on a Car, Unexpected Heat, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:09:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23918065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erraticallyinspired/pseuds/holyfudgemonkeys
Summary: He stops in front of the alpha, in front of Vijay. His hair is the same — dark and carefully styled. His clothes are just as expensive as ever. Even his face, although a little sharper, a little more defined, is unmistakable beneath the beard he’s cultivated since their boarding school days. He’s grown into himself, no longer the lanky alpha he was as a teenager. Malcolm feels a pang of longing at the sight. “Vijay?”~AKA - Malcolm wasn't expecting to run into the alpha he almost had, the alpha part of him still longs for. This case won't be easy.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Jackie Arroyo, Malcolm Bright/Vijay Chandasara, implied Gil Arroyo/Jessica Whitly
Comments: 44
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

## Now

Malcolm smells the alpha before he sees him. His head jerks up as the painfully familiar tang of sweet citrus wafts into the room, old memories of curling up in that scent, his heat surging through his body, rising to the forefront of his mind. It was the most comforting thing he had at one point in his life. He bites his lip and forces down the swell of hope. For _years_ , he desperately tried to replicate the exact scent. The closest he ever came to it was grapefruit dusted in sugar, but even then, it was always lacking something. Joy, maybe. A certain zing. A near breakdown finally got it through to his brain that the endeavor was doing more harm than good, and he spent the remaining years between then and now trying to forget it, to erase the effects it had on his body and mind.

Clearly, he never succeeded.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Gil give him a concerned look. Malcolm’s sure that if the NYPD wasn’t required to wear scent blockers to avoid mucking up cases with suspicions of coercion and intimidation via designation, he’d be able to better smell the other omega’s smokiness turn acrid with worry. He smiles shakily at him when he catches the slightest hint of it in the air.

“I assure you, I’m allowed here.”

Malcolm’s smile drops. It wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him. It wasn’t an alpha cop that just so happened to have a similar scent. It’s _him_. The voice is deeper but no less confident than he remembers. He’s _sure_ it’s him.

“I’m a licensed insurance invest—”

Part of him wants to hide, wants to tell Gil he needs to leave, that he can’t work this case, and book it out the back before he can be noticed. All the evidence the alpha would have to know he was there would be the smallest of whiffs of his omega scent the scent blockers can’t suppress. Instead, his feet take him in the opposite direction.

He stops in front of the alpha, in front of Vijay. His hair is the same — dark and carefully styled. His clothes are just as expensive as ever. Even his face, although a little sharper, a little more defined, is unmistakable beneath the beard he’s cultivated since their boarding school days. He’s grown into himself, no longer the lanky alpha he was as a teenager. Malcolm feels a pang of longing at the sight. “Vijay?” 

The alpha looks at him closely and takes a discreet sniff. His expression bleeds from questioning into incredulous. “ _Whitly?_ ” Vijay laughs, grinning, showing off his bright white teeth. “Is that you?”

The address doesn’t hit Malcolm as hard as it might have from anyone else. He _was_ still a Whitly when they knew each other. The distance in it stings, yes, but his traitorous omega instincts sing at being recognized by the alpha he wanted, the alpha he almost had. “It’s, uh, I go by Bright now,” he stutters out. Internally, he winces at how blatantly off balance he sounds. He needs to rein himself in. He’s too old to be reduced to mush by an old high school crush.

Vijay glances over to where the rest of the team must be standing, his face somewhat flat in its neutrality. 

It wouldn’t surprise Malcolm if Gil was giving the alpha the stink-eye. Gil may not have ever met him in person, but he heard quite a lot about him, and some of it wasn’t exactly _good_.

“Of course you do,” Vijay says cheerfully, back to grinning, although there’s something in his eyes that doesn’t quite match his expression. He taps Malcolm’s arm with a light, playful punch and then reaches out with both hands to straighten his coat, spreading his citrusy scent down the omega’s lapels. Unlike the cops, he’s not wearing any scent blockers. “How the hell are you, man? It’s been forever.” His eyes drift back over to the team. “Is that Major Crimes?”

Malcolm’s happy for the shift in topic. He’s dangerously close to pining for this alpha again. Not even the residual hurt he feels over Eve ignoring him can stop him from falling back into it. He reminds himself that Vijay was the one who pushed him away, that the fact that he scented him means nothing, that it’s just old habits coming forward now that they’re in the same room together again. 

It doesn’t help. His instincts are telling him to drape himself over the alpha and let his own claim sink into the clothes he wears. He would need to, to scent him through the blockers. Vijay doesn’t smell bonded, and it’s _oh_ so tempting. Even as he pushes the urge down, he knows that side of him will win at the end of the day. 

His coat, now smelling of a combination of something like candied grapefruit peel and his own sharp earthy scent, will undoubtedly end up in his chest of heat supplies to be worked into his nest when the time comes. 

“Yeah,” Malcolm says, pride in his voice. He wonders if Vijay remembers his dreams. The NYPD might be a far cry from the FBI, but there aren’t many omegas on the force either. “I’m with them. Special Consultant.”

Vijay graces him with another grin, and it’s almost like being back in boarding school again. The alpha was always free in a way Malcolm never could be. Even when they were bullied, when he was reminded of his father’s situation, he was quick to lighten up. He smiled like he was made for it. 

It’s still infectious, and Malcolm feels his lips twitching up. Vijay does that to him. He’s not surprised that the alpha has done so well for himself, either. His personality had a habit of pulling people in, garnering him a large group of friends as soon as the stain of his father’s incarceration washed out. Malcolm’s smile flattens at that thought even as his mood perks up at the confirmation of why Vijay is here. “Looks like we’re on the same case.”

“Of course, murder really isn’t my bag,” the alpha admits, as if they haven’t talked about this a million times before. As if he didn’t court Malcolm with books on heists, cults, _serial killers_ to prove he cared about him despite the difference in their interests. That he accepted him despite the omega’s obsession with crime.

Malcolm still has some of those books, messages and endearments inked in the fronts in Vijay’s scrawl, in a box in his loft. He could never bring himself to get rid of the gifts. He just packed them away and stuffed them under his bed next to the shoebox of memories of his father until he was ready to move out. The only person who knew about them was Gil. He knew his mother would tell him to get rid of them, to burn them and let himself move on, but Gil understood even if he didn’t encourage him. 

Sometimes Malcolm gets the feeling the other omega has some old courting gifts of his own tucked away. 

“I’m after the twenty mil in watches,” Vijay continues. Thankfully, he seems oblivious to Malcolm’s internal musings. “That’s the job.”

“Of course.” There’s no reason to think they’d have to see each other much. Vijay would do his investigation of the scene, and Malcolm would continue his. Then it would be up to Major Crimes to solve the case, maybe even recover the watches for the alpha, and that would be that. They could go their separate ways again. If the omega feels disappointment well up at that thought, he ignores it. “You get the watches back, the insurance company doesn’t have to pay.”

Smirking, Vijay taps his head and makes a finger gun in his direction. He trails his finger across the top of Malcolm’s shirt, just below the collarbone, spreading citrus mere inches away from where a bonding mark would go. 

It’s… startling. The omega can feel his brows start to sink together. Once is one thing, two scentings is another. There’s no way such small contact like that would leave a mark unless there was intent behind it, unless he was _purposefully_ leaking his scent. And that doesn’t make sense. Vijay hasn’t been this touchy since they were properly courting. Malcolm’s neck tingles under his collar.

“Precisely.” The alpha looks him over nonchalantly, just a quick sweep of his gaze, but it feels meaningful. “It’s good to see you, man. Hey, maybe we can help each other out on this.” Reaching out a third time, Vijay touches his lapels again. His scent, already clinging to the fabric, doubles down. “Yeah, two old friends working together. Could be fun.”

Malcolm nods hesitantly. “Sure. Fun.” His mind is all over the place. _Vijay_ was the one who pulled away. The one who stopped the courtship. The one who stopped scenting blankets and clothes for Malcolm’s heats with no explanation. His confusion must color his muted scent, his face, because Dani joins them, silent in her support, her presence behind him steadying him. 

He’s not the only one to notice her. Vijay takes her in for a long moment, his smile sharp at the corners, his grin just a little too wide to be anything but fake. At least to Malcolm. The omega knows him too well. “Bro, is this your alpha?”

Hand drifting up to his smooth, unmarked neck, Malcolm opens his mouth and then shuts it. Of course Vijay can’t tell if he’s bonded. Not with the scent blockers, not with his clothes today. “I don’t have one,” he blurts out. While there had been some flirting between him and Dani initially, the alpha eventually settled into a role more akin to Ainsley’s, something like family. Eve flits through his mind then. Her beta scent isn’t as strong as an alpha or omega’s would be, and it fades faster, too, every trace of it gone from his loft already. And after what happened… it’s doubtful his loft will ever smell like her again. He grimaces. “Or a beta.”

Vijay’s face eases, just enough for Malcolm to note. He nods, shoots the omega another grin, and claps him on the shoulder. “See you, Whitly.”

Soft steps sound behind him before Dani brushes her shoulder against his. “Were you two a thing?” 

Malcolm turns his head to look at her and bites back a smile at her incredulous expression. “A long time ago, yeah. He’s the one who broke it off.” Which is why none of this makes sense. It almost seemed like Vijay was _jealous_. Malcolm would dismiss the thought, but he can’t think of any other reason why the alpha acted the way he did.

She scoffs, wholly unimpressed. “Well, I think he regrets it now.”

“Maybe.” Ignoring the way his chest feels tight with something that suspiciously feels like hope, Malcolm makes his way back over to Gil. He can’t think about this right now. He needs to focus on the case, and then Vijay will be gone anyway, leaving him to pine again.

## 10th Grade

Jackie takes one look at him and calls for Gil, her brow creased with worry. 

Malcolm gives her a weak smile. The alpha has only been in Gil’s and, by association, his lives for a year now. He _does_ like her, trust her even, but she’s not the one he wants comfort from right now. 

Within a minute, Gil is there. His smoky wood fire scent takes on an unpleasant burnt quality as he winces, reflexively covering his nose at the pervasive smell of despair, of longing and heartbreak. “Hey kid,” he says softly. He opens his arms wide. He’s the picture of omega comfort off duty with his cableknit sweater and sweats.

Malcolm doesn’t hesitate to cling to him. Maybe he would have months prior, but right now, he’s desperate for the presence of another omega. His sister and mother don’t know the right things to say. Both alpha women tried to reassure him by insisting that Vijay wasn’t worthy of him. It’s for the best that the courtship is over, they said. Malcolm deserves better, and he’ll get it with someone else. 

But Malcolm doesn’t want to hear any of that. He wants touch, wants to be embraced. He wants to be comforted _without_ any dismissing of his choices. The only place he’ll get that is here, at Gil’s house. He digs his fingers into soft wool, burying his face into the decorative twists on the omega’s chest. He’s almost glad he hasn’t had his growth spurt yet. There, in the well worn yarn, he’s surrounded by the smell of home. 

For all that he may live at the Whitly mansion during his breaks, it’s less a home and more a big gaping wound. His father — his _carrier_ — lurks in every inch of every room, and Malcolm tries so hard to forget him, but he can’t. He doesn’t _want_ to. If he erases all of the bad his father has done, he’ll lose all of the good, too. All of the storytimes, all of the praise, all of the love. 

They still have their visits, of course. It’s just impossible to ignore the fact that he’s The Surgeon’s son when they’re surrounded by sterile gray walls and prison uniforms. His father has been in Claremont for years already, but he’s hurt so many people, scared so many more, that the memories, the fears are still there. Everyone knows Martin Whitly has an omega son. They know what he used to look like, too, from the society pages. Not even that was off limits to the reporters after his arrest. There used to only be two places he could forget his parentage for a while — tucked into Vijay’s side at the corner table and here, with Gil.

Now, there’s only the latter. 

Gil herds him into the living room so that his alpha can shut the door. “C’mon,” he murmurs as they get to the old sofa, practically pulling Malcolm down to sit with him. He takes the blanket draped over the back of it and wraps it around the two of them the best he can with an armful of clingy omega. 

Being surrounded by his pseudo-carrier’s scent helps. Malcolm sinks into Gil’s side, under the weight of his arm, and shuts his wet eyes. He catalogues the slight changes in the other omega to help distract himself. They’ve talked on the phone plenty, but it’s been months since Malcolm was last on break from boarding school and even longer since he bothered to come home to the city. The most marked is his scent. Whereas a year ago there were slight hints of his mother’s sharp heat woven in with Gil’s smoke, now it’s all Jackie and her sweet tang.

(He doesn’t comment on the difference. He knows he wasn’t supposed to notice anything in the first place.)

Jackie murmurs something, and Gil murmurs back. She walks away, the sound of the front door opening and closing following her. 

“She didn’t have to leave,” Malcolm says thickly, his face still buried in wool. 

Gil pets his hair with a soothing hand. “She’s picking up a pizza for us, kid. Extra cheese still good with you?”

He nods against him.

Time passes. Wherever Jackie went to get dinner must be packed, or, more likely, she’s giving them time. The house is silent without her. Gil doesn’t ask. He doesn’t press. He just keeps Malcolm cocooned in his scent and makes no move to get up. 

Eventually, Malcolm turns his head, removing his face from the sweater he buried it in, though he keeps his cheek up against it to feel the calming rhythm of the other omega’s breathing. His eyes ache from hours of crying. “I thought I was going to be his,” he says raggedly. He forces each word out despite the way his throat threatens to close. They’ve been bottled up for so long. He swallows, desperate to clear the way. “He _promised_ me.”

Gil’s arms tighten around him, but he lets him speak.

“I should’ve known. No one wants The Surgeon’s son.” He screws his eyes shut, ignoring the way it burns. “I’ll never be bonded.”

“You’re not him, Malcolm,” Gil says. His voice is quiet but firm. “Someday, you’ll find someone who loves you even more than your mother and I do. You will.” He very carefully sidesteps the word _promise_.

~

Jackie finds them the way she left them, huddled on the couch together, and the three of them share two pizzas there. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the present, Vijay inserts himself into the investigation.
> 
> In the past, he and Malcolm meet for the first time.

## Now

The team is discussing the security footage when Malcolm catches sight of him again. The alpha winks at him as if it hasn’t been literal years since he last did and knocks on the door. Malcolm glances at Gil just in time to see the way his face darkens. He ducks his head. There’s nothing he can say to change the other omega’s mind about Vijay, not when it was Gil who had to soothe his heartbreak back then. Malcolm has no doubt he remembers the horrible smell of his misery. It’s a miracle the Arroyo house didn’t smell like it for weeks.

But Gil is also a professional. He gestures for Vijay to join them with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

His scent is obvious now that he’s in the room. It wafts in with him, sharp and cheerful. “Hi. Hello. Hola,” Vijay says as he walks in, not oblivious to the tension in the room but at ease despite it _._ It’s a skill he developed long before Malcolm met him, and he used it to successfully win the omega over that first time, too. 

Malcolm can tell it’s not going to work on the rest of the team. Both detectives have been with Gil long enough to take cues from him and his mood, to trust his instincts and prepare accordingly. 

Gil stares the alpha down when he offers his hand. He shakes it but doesn’t back down.

Smoothly ignoring the waves of dislike pouring off of him, Vijay turns to the rest of the team and gives them a winning smile. It does nothing to soothe the blow of him inserting himself into their case. “I _do_ know a thing or two about thieves.”

The slight playfulness in his tone doesn’t do him any favors, either. Malcolm bites the inside of his cheek. He can’t help the frown that takes over his face. Across the table, he sees Dani give the alpha a disgusted look, JT’s expression settling somewhere between incredulous and irritated. He clears his throat and attempts a smile. “Vijay, this is Dani Powell, Gil Arroyo, and…” Glancing at JT, he hopes his intentions are clear enough, that this works. “James Thomas Tarmel?” 

It does get a small, reluctant smile out of Gil. Malcolm counts it as a win.

JT’s face eases a touch, though there’s still a disgruntled quality there, too. “Not even close,” he says wryly.

Malcolm counts _that_ as a win, too.

“This is great,” the beta continues. He glances at Vijay in his tailored suit. “ _Another_ overdressed expert.” He crosses his arms. “And an alpha to boot.”

But, of course, Vijay doesn’t take it as the dig that it is, choosing to pull out the unintentional compliment instead. “Thanks,” he says and adjusts the cuffs of his bright white shirt. The action wafts another burst of his scent through the room.

For all that he knows he shouldn’t, doesn’t _want_ to fall into the alpha’s sphere again, Malcolm can’t help the way his eyes are drawn to the action. The firm yet gentle tugs on the crisp fabric, the smooth familiarity with which those fingers move, the flash of a pricey watch around his wrist. He wears his wealth well.

Vijay smirks at him as their gazes meet, having obviously noticed Malcolm’s appraisal.

“Mr. Chandasara,” Gil interrupts, wholly unamused with exchange. He doesn’t get up from where he’s settled on the window sill, because he doesn’t have to. The moment he spoke up, Vijay turned his attention to him, maybe sensing the omega’s protective instincts flare up. Or maybe he cares more about the team’s chain of command here than he seems to. “...but we’re here to solve a murder. That’s the priority.”

It’s a relief not to have the alpha’s eyes on him anymore. Malcolm smiles weakly at JT when the beta gives him a look. Dani’s still watching Vijay, her body seemingly relaxed, but Malcolm knows her too well to think that. She’s watching him like he’s a threat. 

“Absolutely. To _that_ end,” Vijay says, pointing at Gil, who looks at him through narrowed eyes, “the crew that did this had bravado.” 

The confidence with which he talks, the way he stands there at the head of the table straight and tall — it’s _distracting_. Malcolm finds himself leaning forward to listen. He’s still aware of the rest of the team, but they fade into the periphery. Back in boarding school, back when the two of them only had each other, it wasn’t such a problem when the world narrowed down like this, when he focused in on Vijay and Vijay only. It was the worst around his heats, both before and after. His body was well aware that this alpha was his choice. 

“And?” Gil says impatiently, snapping Malcolm back to a wider attention again. 

Some things don’t change. Malcolm rubs a hand across his jaw and promises himself it won’t happen a second time.

Vijay’s smile dips. “No hits.” 

“ _Super_ helpful,” Dani snarks.

“But,” Vijay adds, his smile perking back up, confidence reappearing as if it never left, “she confirmed that some young American thieves of unknown designations have been pulling jobs in Europe with the more established crews there. Studying the masters, if you will.” For the first time, the alpha drops the pretense of discussing the case with the team as a whole, instead locking gazes with Malcolm and leaning forward over the table. His scent spikes. “We’re after a young gang looking to make their mark.”

Malcolm holds the eye contact, barely breathing.

“How does this help us with our thrill killer, Bright?” JT grumbles. He crosses his arms and ignores Vijay.

Grateful for the return to the topic, Malcolm points at the beta. “It tracks with my profile.” And it does. The only point he would argue is the unknown designations, because, based on eyewitness testimony, the thieves likely wore very strong scent blockers. While that doesn’t rule out betas, it’s a strong case for a group of alphas and omegas. Beta scents were dull already. An entire group of alphas wouldn’t work together, however. Not without self destructing. He has his money on there being at least one omega in the group to break up the fighting or at the very least, tone down the aggression. It was a stereotype, but truthfully, most omegas were better at peacekeeping than their counterparts.

( _Of course_ Malcolm couldn’t be one of those. His carrier certainly isn’t.)

Vijay slams the folder he was holding on the desk, sliding it across the surface, smothered in his scent from holding it too long, to Malcolm, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Wham, bam, Flinstone. Here are the top fifty American crews from our database.”

The alpha looks so pleased that Malcolm can’t help the twitch of his lips. He can feel Gil’s eyes on him.

“And, uh, as for the watches…” Vijay glances over at the older omega, who takes a slow sip of his coffee.

Dani scoffs. “We don’t care about the watches.”

Once again, Vijay brushes it off. “Totes. I get it. But _they_ do.” He’s more serious than he has been so far, his smile sharp, challenging. “Only so many people can buy stolen goods at this price point.”

Malcolm nods, not wanting this to devolve into something more outwardly aggressive. Usually, Gil would step in. He’s much better at cutting the tension with a firm hand, but clearly he isn’t going to try this time. “That’s how we’ll catch them,” Malcolm says. 

“Exactly!” The alpha points at him and chuckles fondly.

“Alright,” Gil says, pushing off the window sill, finally putting an end to this. “We’ll coordinate.” He rattles off orders for his detectives. He doesn’t mention Malcolm, but after this morning, Malcolm fully expects to be pulled into his office. Turning to Vijay, Gil gives him a smile that’s more a grimace than anything. “Thanks.”

Vijay nods. “Sure thing.” Instead of leaving, instead of watching the others leave, he waits until Malcolm gets up and tries to pass him, eyes averted. He pats the omega’s shoulder. “Hey, _hey_ , look at that, huh? Together again.” Hand on his shoulder, Vijay gives him an excited shake.

Malcolm should be used to how tactile he is, but it’s been _so_ long. He nods, startled, as his body relaxes at the touch. He’s feeling itchy under his suit. Gil is waiting for him by the door, jaw set, watching intently, and Malcolm knows he needs to get out of here. He knew he would fall into old patterns. He just didn’t think it would be this _soon_. 

“The corner table boys,” Vijay continues happily, gently squeezing his shoulder before leaning in. They’re close enough that he can get a strong whiff of Malcolm’s scent even with the blockers. His grin widens. “The rejects. The bad seeds.”

There are so many things Malcolm wants to say. He wants to turn him away. He wants to tell the alpha he can’t come back into his life and expect them to pick up what they used to have. He wants to wrap his arms around Vijay’s neck and _yank_ him closer for a kiss.

He can’t. “Please stop,” Malcolm chokes out. He pulls away from the alpha’s hold and joins Gil at the door, desperate for solid ground.

~

When he arrives that day, he asks Mr. David to stay outside. The beta nods, leaving both Whitly omegas to themselves, which brings a smile to his father’s face. Malcolm sits as far away from the hospital bed as he can. It feels unfair that his father gets to be cheerful in his gown with all the jello he can ask for while his mother — the man’s _alpha_ , for all that they’re divorced — is quickly falling back into her worst drinking habits from right after the arrest. 

Malcolm wishes she didn’t lie for him. He crosses his legs at the knee. Then, at least, they wouldn’t be indebted to his carrier this way. 

Martin’s smile diminishes as the minutes tick by in silence. His scent mellows. It’s not sad or angry or disappointed. He’s always been good at keeping it from really showing what he’s feeling, had to in order to be who he was. Scooping more pear chunks up with his plastic utensil, he chews slowly and hums. “Are you _sure_ you don’t want a bite? You can use my spork,” he offers, holding the flimsy tool up. 

They used to share small plates or bowls of snacks in his father’s study. Just little things they could pick at, like almonds or cubes of cheese. 

Malcolm doesn’t want anything off _his_ tray. He sighs. “I’m not hungry.” He really isn’t. He never is after these visits. “And I have to leave in twelve minutes.” 

“Well, someone’s in a mood,” his father says as if Malcolm’s still seven, sulking in his room after being told he can’t follow him into work. He smiles softly, probably thinking about it. About how his little omega son always hung off of him until the day of his arrest. 

It’s normal, everyone used to say. Omega parents bond closest with their omega children. He’ll follow in his carrier’s footsteps one day, surely.

Malcolm’s jaw aches with the force of his grinding teeth. Some people never _stopped_ saying that. He ducks his head and grimaces. “I’m not in a mood.”

But he’s ignored. Of course. “We should talk about it, whatever’s bothering you.” His father puts his fruit cup down and gives Malcolm his full attention. He puts a comforting look on his face. His scent, earthy and rainy — petrichor, so similar to his son’s, though lacking the crispness of it — becomes stronger, more soothing. “Come on, son. Tell your carrier. That’s what these visits are _for_.”

“No,” Malcolm bites out, eyes narrowing. All of the people across the nation who were baffled that The Surgeon was an omega only thought so because they never saw him like this. This obsession with his family, with being the one they relied on — that falls in with the stereotypical omega personality, even if it’s tainted and cranked up to a hundred. Even if it means blackmailing them to see him. Malcolm shifts angrily in his seat.

Predictably, that’s not the end of the conversation. His father pushes, like he always does, until Malcolm gives in.

Hadn’t he already started this years ago when he first visited after he and Vijay drifted? Let all his anxieties, all of his fears out, because even after Gil soothed him, he still couldn’t quite shake the feeling of having no ground beneath his feet anymore. He told his father about all of it. It was one of the last times they had physical contact. He huddled up under the scent of his carrier, one of the scents he’d always know and respond to, and zoned out for a short, blissful hour.

Today, he’ll be staying in his chair, far away from his father’s reach. He dips his head and swallows as he musters up the energy to do this. To talk about the pain he wishes remained in the past where it belonged. He can’t hold it all back. His scent gives away what his face doesn’t, and he sees the other omega still as it reaches him. “Do you remember Vijay Chandasara?” 

(The coat he was wearing, rich with citrus where the alpha laid his hands, is back in his apartment with his heat supplies.) 

“Vijay! _Of course_ , your buddy,” his father says, grinning, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes at first. There’s zero chance he doesn’t recall exactly what happened. “God, it was such a relief when you started making friends after all those years of isolation, and when you started thinking about bonding, _well_. I was as excited as any carrier would be when their eldest finds someone to court.”

Malcolm grimaces. “Dr. Whitly.”

His father waves him off, pensive. “Although… you boys had a bad breakup, didn’t you?”

“So you do remember.”

“Of course,” his father says immediately. He hones in on Malcolm. His gaze is somehow more intense than it was before. “You were very hurt by the whole ordeal. You both had fathers in prison. You had a connection. Sometimes that’s all you need to get started. Did I ever tell you how your mother and I started courting?”

“Yes.” Malcolm looks away, down. He can’t take that awful, _false_ sentimentality all over his father’s face right now. He looks wistful, and it curdles in Malcolm’s gut. “But once Vijay’s father was released from jail…”

“He found new friends, maybe even someone new to court. You _might_ say he betrayed you.” He says it softly, like he’s sympathizing with him, like he understands. 

Shaking his head, Malcolm forces it off his mind. He can’t afford to let the other omega get to him. Not when he’s off balance yet. “I’m not sure. Maybe the problem was me.” Somehow, his voice is steady. It might be because Malcolm believes it. So many people stayed away from him or left after they got what they wanted. He thought Vijay was going to be different, but maybe he got sick of dealing with him. Maybe he stuck it out until he had other options.

“Oh, don’t beat yourself up,” his father insists. “You’re prime mating material, my boy! A very well established line through your mother, plenty of assets to your name from the moment you were born, and a history of strong fertility, too.” He smiles, soft and reassuring. “Trust me, _you_ weren’t the problem.”

It takes all of his willpower to keep his hands unfisted, to not immediately tense in fury. An established line? No one cares about that, not with his carrier’s reputation. The Milton name can’t make up for the Whitly one. Assets? That barely matters, either, unless someone plans to mate him and murder him for it. Malcolm likes to think he’d notice that before it got _too_ far. And fertility? Why would a potential mate consider the possibility of him bringing more killers into the world a positive? The world already branded him one the moment his father’s arrest went public, the moment everyone’s eyes turned to the shockingly violent omega and his omega son.

He can’t even escape it now, not really. Changing his name didn’t erase the fact that he was born a Whitly. Gil was one of the first people to tell him he wasn’t going to become his father. One of the first people to believe in him.

So, taking a deep breath, he meets the other omega’s eyes. “You’re right. _You_ were.”

His father chuckles wryly. “Walked right into that one.”

But Malcolm’s not done. He’s not going to let him get off that easily. “I didn’t trust him, and that’s because of _you_.” He shifts, leaning forward. “I ruined my best chance of mating and starting a family on my own. I wouldn’t have even _had_ any problems finding a mate if not for you.”

“Come on,” his father cuts in, putting on an exasperated front. Malcolm gets the feeling he might snap if he pushes too far, however. “I mean, how many problems in your life can you blame on me? Did I give you long heats to boot?”

“Enough.” He’s not doing this today. He already said his piece, had the opportunity to vent, and it did make him feel a little better. He pushes off the chair to his feet and makes for the door. “Our time’s up.” 

His father backpedals. Not nearly as much as someone else might have, because Martin Whitly, omega or not, has too much pride to smooth things out the stereotypical omega way, but it gets Malcolm to stop all the same. It’s _something_. And then he twists it, like he always does. “But I’m sure that life wasn’t easy for Vijay, either. Which does make me wonder, if he was able to move on, then… why can’t you?”

It’s not surprising. He should have expected it, honestly. Standing still, not looking at his carrier, he screws his eyes shut, all the old, persistent thoughts coming back again.

(He’s not a good omega. He’s not a good _son_. He turned his own carrier in, nevermind the fact that he saved lives and the rest of his family in doing so. His father is a twisted omega, and he’s bound to be, too. It’s in the blood. They’re the _same_.)

Malcolm takes a deep breath just as his phone begins to ring. 

Gil’s name flashes across the screen.

## 9th Grade

A plate of food is set on the table next to him.

Malcolm glances up from his panini. No one ever sits with him. There’s a reason the corner table is pretty much his and his alone. The Surgeon’s son is dangerous, of course, and he needs to be kept at a distance, shunned, ignored on a good day. After the first few months of it, he stopped even interacting with anyone who tried to join him on a dare, and so they stopped daring. 

It wasn’t funny if he wasn’t hurt.

“Yo, Whitly!” The boy next to him gives him a wide grin, the white of his teeth right on display. For all that Malcolm has spent the years since his father’s arrest zoning out, not paying attention to anything he doesn’t need to, he _does_ recognize this boy. His name is Vijay Chandasara, and he’s an alpha. Tall and gangly and charismatic, he’s popular — or he used to be before his father ended up in jail not long ago. 

Malcolm stares at him flatly. He can feel his shoulders tense, his whole being ready to strike if the boy tries something. If there was one thing he learned in the last few years, it was that no one was going to help him, not even teachers, and so it was best for him to teeter on the edge of the offense. Most of his peers didn’t expect an omega of his size to be as aggressive as he could be if pushed, son of a murderer or not. It gave him all the advantage he needed. “Why are you here?”

“It’s lunchtime, dawg,” Vijay says, winking and pulling out finger guns. 

Malcolm gets the feeling he’s nervous. Not that Malcolm _cares_. He can tell what’s going on, and he has no interest in being this alpha’s last resort. He’s sure his scent is crackling, the crisp notes of it sharpening with distrust. “Don’t sit next to me.”

Vijay’s smile dips but comes back in full force as he picks up his plate and moves a few seats down. “Sure, it’s all good.” He smells obnoxiously cheerful, notes of citrus in the air. 

The next day, the alpha sits in the same place and winks when Malcolm looks at him. 

And the next day. And the day after that. He sits at the corner table, the reject table, the prison kids table for a whole week before he manages to wear Malcolm down.

Part of it is his scent. It’s still happier than it should be, but every day that goes by without a word from him it sours just a bit more. Vijay is _lonely_. Malcolm doesn’t want to care. He does take after his father in this way, in that he doesn’t fall into the traditional stereotypes, and yet, he can’t ignore it for long. 

Not when Malcolm himself is so dreadfully lonely. That’s the hardest thing. He misses his mother’s alpha scent. He misses the budding wisps of it in his sister’s. He misses being touched and cared for. 

“You’re Vijay, right?” he bites out eventually. “I’m Malcolm.” He does _not_ need to be called Whitly again.

The alpha perks up, sweet sugary notes mixing in with the citrus. “That’s me! You mind?” He slides his plate down a few seats anyway. 

Malcolm gives him a reluctant smile. “Go ahead.”

Instantly, Vijay is in the seat by his. Grinning widely at the sullen omega, he taps his shoulder with a fist. “This is gonna be _wicked_. You won’t regret it, promise.”

He should. He should be annoyed at the way all of his peace and quiet suddenly vanishes, at how the taller boy is by his side all the time. Vijay is always close, always in his space, just shy of touching when he’s not insisting on fist bumps or slapping his back. 

But he doesn’t regret it. Malcolm’s boundaries aren’t ignored so much as they are eased open by his charms. 

A month goes by before they’re separated for the first time. It’s fall break, and both of them are returning to their mothers, to their homes. The alpha is as happy as usual, but Malcolm is startled to realize that he knows him well enough to know he’s sad, too. Hesitantly, the omega offers to scent him — platonically, of course — before their respective drivers pick them up. They spent the afternoon curled up on the grass outside talking about their assignments. 

When they’re back again, Vijay touches him, scents him even though they’ll be seeing each other every day until winter break hits. Malcolm… goes with it. It’s nice to be dusted in the alpha’s scent. Moodlifting, even. It becomes a habit. They scent each other most days — before class, after class, during lunch, before going to their dorms to sleep. They begin to meld together that way, lemon bars and thunderstorms. 

For the first time in a long while, Malcolm’s _happy_. 


	3. Chapter 3

## Now

Standing there next to Vijay, shoulders just a few inches apart, the alpha’s scent in his nose, the two of them finishing each other’s sentences smoothly — it’s like being back in boarding school again. How did Malcolm forget this? He never fell in sync with anyone outside of his family the way he did with Vijay. They flowed together so well, knew the other’s mind so well. 

But this _isn’t_ boarding school, of course. When the alpha’s phone pings, he walks out, leaving Malcolm’s smile to drop as he watches him go. They _don’t_ know each other. Not anymore. He wrestles his gaze back over to Gil, who looks at the empty doorway with a distrustful expression. It’s not the same as it was earlier. It’s not just disappointment, anger, or distrust based on Vijay’s past actions. This is rooted in the now.

“He might try to make a side deal with Cooper,” the older omega warns him. His expression softens when he meets Malcolm’s eyes. He doesn’t want to say it, but it needs to be said. He sets his mug down on the desk in front of him. “Can we trust him?” 

Malcolm dips his head, contemplating the question. He knows what answer he wants to give. He knows what answer he wants to be true. His chest aches, and he rubs at it lightly, trying not to mess with the clean lines of his suit. Turning his head, still lowered, to look at Gil, he hands over the folder containing all of the information they gathered on Cooper Wu. “I don’t know,” he says eventually, not bothering to hide the despondency on his face. 

Whatever hint of comfort he got from remembering how they used to be sours. This is another reason why he should never have let Vijay tag along with him in the operating room. Letting himself fall back into the alpha’s sphere is a natural lead into thinking about what they had back then. Vijay hasn’t changed too much, but now he’s more unreachable than ever, and it hurts, because he should be _Malcolm’s_. Malcolm should be _his_. 

Gil tugs him into a tight hug, using a hand to tuck his head into his neck, right where his warm scent is strongest, easy to detect even under the police grade scent blockers. “I’m worried about you, kid,” he murmurs. 

Malcolm clings to him. He doesn’t have to say anything, which is good. He’s not sure he _could_ say a word without choking on it right now. Breathing in the smokiness that registers as comfort, home, _carrier_ helps to some degree.

Patting his back once more, Gil pulls away and grasps his shoulders. “Do me a favor and try not to get attached anymore than you already have, okay? I don’t want to see you that low again.” 

“I’ll try,” Malcolm says, smiling wearily. They both know it won’t work. 

Gil nods and lets go of him. “I’ll put a tail on him, see where he goes.”

~

When he approaches the alpha where he stopped mid-precinct to answer his text, he does make a point of being quiet. Initially. “Vijay,” Malcolm says abruptly, startling him, hoping there won’t be a flash of guilt across the alpha’s face like he expects and fears there will be. He can smell the sudden, sharp sourness of his scent, and the disappointment deepens. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Vijay is quick to say. Reaching out, he pats Malcolm’s shoulder roughly. “Good job in there, baby boy.”

The words make him feel warmer than they should. Malcolm takes a quick look down to hide the way his grin curdles into a grimace. The alpha in front of him is the only person who would ever dare call him that, the only person he would let do so, and while it still hurts to think about, it also gives him the strength he needs to finally approach the conversation he’s been wanting and dreading for so many years. He perches on the edge of an empty desk and looks up at Vijay. “Listen, um, I wanted to ask you about school.”

Scent mellowing out to an uncomfortable dullness, the alpha’s brows shoot up. “Really? That’s ancient history, man.” His gaze is searching. 

But Malcolm has to finish this. “We were friends.” He swallows, eyes darting down and away. “ _More_ than friends. And then, after your dad got out, we weren’t.” The hurt in his voice is unavoidable, because, really, it was the closest he ever let himself get to anyone, to closest he ever got to the bond he craves. They started drifting the day the news hit the school. Malcolm knew they were, could feel the bond slipping right through his hands no matter how hard he gripped it. Vijay just stopped scenting things for his heat nest. He stopped joining him at the corner table. He stopped all of the touching, the gifts, the everything, and Malcolm was alone again. 

Shaking it off, the omega looks back up at him. “Why did that happen?” He pointedly doesn’t bother to mask just how desperate he is to know. Once, fucked up as they were by their individual fathers, they promised each other they wouldn’t lie about how they were really feeling. 

(A good bond isn’t based on lies.)

The way Vijay’s face twists in discomfort is almost… a relief, oddly enough. He’s not pretending, either. He turns his head, looking down the precinct away from Gil’s office, from where JT and Dani’s desks are, just for a moment to collect himself. “Where is this coming from?”

Regardless, Malcolm backpedals a little. He refused to let himself look the alpha up after they graduated. He never wanted to know how many other omegas he courted or whether he found one to actually mate with. He keeps his head tilted down, unable to maintain eye contact as his mind races, wondering whether Vijay ever thought of him in the same vein. “It’s not like I’ve thought a lot about it. We were supposed to bond, and then we didn’t.” His mouth twists into what he’s sure is something self-deprecating, but he presses on. It’s not like Malcolm has ever particularly cared about his own wellbeing. “Why did that happen?”

This time, Vijay’s upper body jolts back, hurt and the slightest bit of anger touching his features, his scent spiking. The anger dissipates immediately. “I _tried_ , man. I invited you to parties, introduced you to people, but you were…” He rips his gaze away, looking lost. “Intense, judging people without saying anything, like they weren’t trustworthy. You pulled away from me, too.” 

And Malcolm _does_ listen. He considers what the alpha is saying. None of it is strictly false, although he’d argue they were judging him, too. Everyone had the second he came back after Martin’s arrest. Not even Vijay’s friendship could change that. In fact, before Vijay’s father was released, a lot of their peers insisted the two of them belonged together, two bad seeds, misfits. Only Malcolm couldn’t scrub the black mark off his forehead the way the alpha could. “Yeah,” he admits eventually, quietly. “I have rather profound trust issues. That’s what my therapist would say.”

There’s a bittersweet tang to the alpha’s scent now, a bit sugary, lighter than it was but sharp all the same. “I’m glad you’re getting help,” Vijay says as he shifts to leave. 

“I’m trying, but here’s the problem.” Malcolm can tell he’s being honest. He _is_ glad Malcolm’s getting help. Still, it’s what he’s not saying that’s more important, so the omega pushes away from the desk and points at Vijay, getting to the point, disappointment growing. “Um, I’m having trouble trusting you right now. Cooper Wu has to unload twenty million in watches, and your job is to recover them by any means necessary.” He refuses to look away from Vijay’s face, from any hints or tells. Part of him desperately hopes he’s wrong even as the rest of him _knows_. 

But Vijay swallows, a classic sign of nerves. For an alpha, Vijay always was so expressive.

Malcolm’s heart sinks. “You’re making a deal to buy the watches from Cooper,” he says flatly, feeling betrayed even though he knows he shouldn’t. They never made a deal. They aren’t close anymore. Vijay never promised him — the team — anything, and yet it _hurts_. 

As if that wasn’t hard enough, the alpha snaps back, his scent souring, defensive. He scoffs and turns his head, looking across the precinct. “See,” he says quietly but sharply, “this is the old Whitly.”

Malcolm shifts back, feeling like he’s been hit for all that Vijay hasn’t made a single move to touch him. _Whitly?_ Even in the short time they’ve been back in each other’s spheres, he’s gotten used to being Vijay’s baby boy again, to being someone he held some measure of affection for. 

“All suspicious, all the time,” the alpha bites out, clearly on the defensive. His scent, too, is sharp and unhappy. “No matter how long we knew each other, you couldn’t trust me.”

Malcolm bites the inside of his cheek hard, holding back a wince at the faint taste of blood it brings. “I _did_ trust you, Vijay.” He shakes his head. He can’t let this distract him. “You’d be aiding and abetting known criminals, not to mention putting yourself in the crosshairs of a killer.” 

Something colors Vijay’s face while he talks, something plainly hurt, but it disappears quickly enough. “For your information,” he says shortly, “I was texting an omega.” 

It shouldn’t hurt. It really shouldn’t. Any superficial claim he had on Vijay has long since worn off. He’s spent years assuming the alpha moved on easily enough after they drifted, because the rest of the school certainly took him back without pause. 

But, fuck, does it hurt. Malcolm can’t hide the pained grimace that spreads across his face. If not for the scent blockers, he’s sure he’d be filling the precinct with his grief. His gaze drifts down to the alpha’s chin, unable to look Vijay straight in the eye any longer.

There’s a beat where neither of them say a word. 

“I’ll see you around,” Vijay says finally, taking a long look, the weight of his eyes heavy on Malcolm’s heart. He turns and leaves.

Then, and only then, the omega’s head tilts up. He watches the alpha he almost had walk away, all long strides, straight back, grace and wealth in every step he takes. Once Vijay is no longer in sight, Malcolm pushes away from the desk and gathers his things. He needs to go home and prepare for dinner with Eve. 

~

The very first thing he does in the loft is shower. The blockers, while very effective in the field, while something he’s gotten used to over his years in the FBI, are not helping his mood. He needs to be able to smell himself in his space, his territory.

He needs to scrub off the lingering hurt.

There are a few products that remove blockers, and he has the very best, of course. It leaves virtually no scent behind, just a small hint of what unscented soaps tend to smell like. By the time he’s dressed, even that will be overtaken by his natural petrichor. He lathers up twice today. Once to clear the blockers. Twice in a futile effort to get to a neutral smell. But the depression, the pain — it’s all still there.

He has to remind himself that she won’t be able to smell it.

Walking out of the bathroom, a soft pair of pants low on his hips, his damp hair still dripping down the nape of his neck and the side of his face every now and then, he takes stock of the space. He judges it clean enough for Eve to visit. A grimace touches his lips. 

Eve. He’s barely even thought of her lately. Before Vijay strolled right back into his life, he was heartbroken over her. Desperate to fix what they had, could have had. He could see himself loving the beta woman and maybe even settling into a life with her. It wouldn’t be as easy for them to have children, truthfully, but that wasn’t a terrible thing, either. Part of him thought the best option would be adoption, and he was sure Eve would be fine with that, an adopted kid herself. She was the second person he thought this far with. 

Now that the first is back, he’s gotten distracted. Old hurts seemed more important than the fragile thing he was building with her. It wasn’t even sex based. They might not have shared a heat yet, but they’d talked about it before, and he was confident she could handle his needs with a little prior coaching. No, it was more that his heart was just… longing for Vijay, for his first love. The thought of rekindling his relationship with her isn’t as exciting anymore. It’s more likely, yes, but he feels like he can’t give all of himself over to the endeavor.

Which wouldn’t be fair to _her_.

Malcolm burns dinner. Swearing, tears escaping the corners of his eyes — why can’t he get this _one_ thing right? — he dumps the pan of scallops into the sink and grabs his cell phone. Two scallop dinners with all the sides are on the way. He goes back to the bathroom and brushes the hair out of his face with his fingers. He dabs at his eyes with a cold towel, desperate to ease the signs of frustration before she arrives.

Thankfully, his mother is Jessica Whitly, and if there’s one useful thing she taught them growing up, it was how to make sure they don’t know they made you cry. He applies a light amount of makeup just the way she told him. 

By the time Eve arrives, he looks comfortable. Not polished the way he would be to leave the loft, but not like he’s spent time scraping scallops into the trash, either. 

The beta smiles awkwardly at him. Her scent doesn’t give anything away the way it would if she was any other designation.

Still, he can see the way the awkwardness grows when he brings out the scallops. Maybe it was a little overkill. It won’t be the first time he neglected to take her upbringing into account. Just because the Whitlys ate this kind of food all the time, doesn’t mean that it won’t mean more to her. His smile drops. “This isn’t a date,” Malcolm assures her. He hates that he doesn’t even want it to be a lie. “Please, Eve, sit down.”

And they talk. Or, they start to. The usual undercurrent of affection is still there, though it’s stilted and bereft of the passion it once had. Apparently, he’s not the only one who isn’t expecting to get back together. It’s almost a relief when his phone rings, Gil’s name flashing up on the screen. He glances over at Eve, who nods.

“Hey, kid,” Gil says quietly. They both know why he’s calling. “He slipped the tail.”

Malcolm closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I think I know where he’s gone. I’ll text you the address and meet you there.”

“You sure?” From the way he says it, Malcolm knows the other omega’s scent would be rising up to comfort him if they were having this conversation face to face. 

It does make his shoulders ease. Just a touch. He can practically smell it. “I’m sure. I’ll see you soon, Gil.” When he turns to Eve, she’s already gathering her purse. “I’m sorry.” For leaving. For fucking things up. For moving on. 

She gives him a small smile. “I know.”

~

Finding Vijay is as easy as breathing. His first instinct was right, and as he makes his way over to the Porsche, he steels himself for the upcoming confrontation. The enclosed space certainly won’t help, though it will have the advantage of making sure the alpha can’t just walk away like he had earlier. 

(The disadvantages, of course, are numerous. The interior of the car will no doubt reek of Vijay, his citrus embedded in every inch of the vehicle. His presence there will only amplify it.)

Malcolm rapps on the window. Not waiting for an affirmative, not giving Vijay a chance to lock the door on him, he slips in. He silently curses himself for relaxing into the seat so readily. Vijay is not his alpha, never will be.

Next to him, the alpha’s nostrils flare. His eyes linger on Malcolm and not in a _bad_ way. 

_The blockers_ , Malcolm thinks hysterically. He _forgot_ to reapply the blockers. Vijay is getting a whiff of his unfiltered scent for the first time in ages. 

_(Maybe_ this will work in his favor.)

“How’d you find me?” Vijay says. His tone isn’t angry, which is a plus. He doesn’t look terribly happy, however. 

(Or maybe not.)

Malcolm brushes his loose hair back nervously, unconsciously spreading more of his earthiness through the car. “Your dad used these docks to smuggle cocaine in the ‘80s.” He looks at Vijay, slight smile on his face. “You used to brag about how he ran down a Colombian hit man in his Bentley. You were in the back.” It was a story Vijay used to tell all the time. Once or twice, the alpha even joked they’d be telling it to their children.

“Yeah,” Vijay says shortly, shaking his head and turning to look out the driver’s side window. His scent takes on a sharp sour note. “That’s great. You need to go back to your beta and leave me to my business.”

_Beta?_ Malcolm bites his lip. Apparently the quick, painfully platonic hug he and Eve shared when he left was enough to impart some of her muted scent on him. Is Vijay jealous? Or happy that Malcolm won’t be pursuing him? He clenches his jaw. They _don’t_ have time to talk about this. “You told me you weren’t going to do a side deal,” he fires back. Then, because Malcolm can’t help himself, because for all of his training both in society and at the Bureau, he’s unable to hold back sometimes, he lets the hurt color his voice. “You lied to me.” His chest aches. His eyes threaten to tear up again.

Vijay lied about the side deal, yes, but also about bonding. About being together forever. About starting a new family and raising their children _better_. 

“This is my job,” Vijay argues, though it’s obvious he’s affected by Malcolm’s words with how he hunches every so slightly, hand tight on the wheel. “Making deals with bad people.”

Bad people. Malcolm wants to scream, and he’s sure his scent is giving that away. “These aren’t just bad people. There’s a thrill killer. This isn’t just another deal.” He can’t stop from gesturing, his worry and fear and frustration coming out in the way his hands move. His hair falls back into his face. 

His hands become fists when Vijay is silent. He always was stubborn. But Malcolm is, too. Turning forward, he adjusts his suit jacket, smoothing out whatever his gesturing did to the lines of it. He’s not going to leave the alpha to his own ignorance. “Gil is on his way. All we have to do is wait.”

Vijay shakes his head. “Gil’s not gonna make it. They’re here.” He turns to Malcolm. His brow furrows and something like… worry colors his scent. It’s acrid. “You got to leave. If they find out you’re a cop,” he says, trailing off. His body drifts into the omega’s space, almost on instinct.

“Dead. Got it,” Malcolm cuts in. He’s done this plenty of times while still with the Bureau. He knows how to play his part. The only question is whether or not Vijay will be able to adapt. Hesitantly, he touches the alpha’s shoulder, his scent becoming richer in an attempt at comfort. “I’m not leaving. Come on.” He pulls away and gets out of the car.

It takes a moment, but Vijay joins him.

## 10th Grade

When the alpha bursts into his dorm room, somehow managing to leave the door open per school rules in his excitement, Malcolm knows exactly what he’s going to say. They’ve been waiting for this announcement for weeks now. The Chandasara lawyers are _good_. Maybe not as good as his father’s, but he had a feeling even the opposing side knew that the head alpha of the Chandasara family would be getting his sentence reduced no matter what they did. 

Vijay pulls him off his bed by both hands, tugging him into a tight hug, his nose nestled right in the crook of Malcolm’s neck. “We did it, boo.”

The omega’s eyes slip shut in happiness as he returns the favor. Cheerful as he usually is, Vijay’s scent now is flat out ambrosia. Sweet and tangy and bright, _so_ bright. Malcolm soaks it in with a sigh. “When’s he coming home?”

“In a month.” The alpha pulls back to give him a wide grin. “It’s whack, right? But the judge said he’s already served a lot of time.”

Malcolm returns the smile, because he genuinely _is_ happy for Vijay. The thought of his own father creeps in, but in the end, Malcolm can go visit him at Claremont the next time he’s home. No lawyer could get Martin Whitly released, omega or not. On the other hand, getting his alpha father back will do wonders for both Vijay and his family. He caresses the alpha’s hand with his thumb. “Lay down with me?”

Vijay takes another deep inhale and then reddens, head dipping in embarrassment. “Your heat is coming up, isn’t it? Sorry, I was distracted and —”

“Shut up.” Instead of saying another word, Malcolm tugs him into the small dorm bed. His petite frame helps them here, since the school would never agree to give couples bigger beds. Bonding during term was strictly forbidden. Anyone who did so on break either had to get off campus housing or have separate rooms like all of their peers. But, as long as the door is open, Vijay can curl around him, tucking the two of them into the small space with ease. 

The alpha does so. He holds Malcolm close to him and breathes in his fresh, grassy preheat scent, his own citrus becoming sweeter, deeper in response. He strokes soft brown hair idly. “Aiight.”

~

When Vijay’s father is finally back home, the rest of the school takes note. Vijay’s no longer the son of a disgraced businessman, no longer the son of an inmate. His popularity rises a stupid amount within a week. Everyone wants to be his friend now, inserting themselves into his and Malcolm’s conversations, inviting him to eat with them at different tables, telling him about parties they were having on the weekends. 

Vijay isn’t impressed, not at first. Malcolm could tell he’s struggling with how much he craves the social interaction, the popularity, but none of them even acknowledged Malcolm, and _that_ was the problem. 

For all that the omega thought most of their peers wouldn’t stoop so low as to include him, it doesn’t take very long at all for the invitations to explicitly mention him, too. Vijay flashes them a bright smile and says they’d consider it. Later, once they could find some time relatively alone, he looks at Malcolm with pleading eyes and an awkward upturn of the lips. 

Malcolm gives in. The next day, he finds himself squished on the end of the bench eating his food in near silence while their peers drag his alpha into conversation after conversation. Naturally, every single one of them makes a point to offer their congratulations on his father’s early release. Malcolm can tell none of them mean it. They all threw him to the curb the moment the sentence was passed, if not earlier when Alpha Chandasara was being investigated. The lure of potential connections in the future is the only thing that motivates them now. He’s sure their parents all impressed the importance of making friends again. 

Loud lunches filled with only the constant contact of Vijay’s hand in his turn into parties eventually. They always arrive together. If not for Malcolm’s shame, they could have been a power couple there. They still turn heads because of Vijay. (And Malcolm secretly suspects because of him, too, but for entirely different reasons.) The omega follows his alpha around, holding back the sharp words that rise up over and over again. He eyes the people that come up to them. He feels he can see right through them. None of them want the Whitly spawn here.

“Hey dawg,” some other alpha says, coming up behind them and clapping Vijay on the back. “I’m glad you finally came to one of these!”

Vijay grins. “We’re stoked.” He wraps an arm around Malcolm’s shoulders and pulls him closer, idly scenting him. 

And _this_ is why the omega endures this. This is why he bothers. He doesn’t say a word, just gives the other alpha what feels like a sharp smile. They only let him come because of Vijay, but the funny thing is that Malcolm wouldn’t bother if not for Vijay, either. He just wishes they wouldn’t waste everyone’s time pretending. They’re not good actors.

~

The next time he falls into pre-heat, he finds himself happier than he’s been in a long time — Vijay chooses to skip the parties in favor of curling up with him, scenting a fresh set of clothes, reassuring him that he can’t wait until they can finally bond. It puts Malcolm in such a good mood that his heat feels lighter than usual. The breaks between waves are longer, and he spends that time covered in the smell of the two of them. 

When his heat ends, he seeks out his alpha only to find his dorm room empty. His instincts scream for him to nest in Vijay’s bed while he waits. The scent of him will help, even if it’s not fresh from the source. The logical side of him knows that if he falls asleep here and misses curfew, they’ll both be in a lot of trouble. 

Malcolm wanders back to his own room, feeling bereft. 

The next day, Vijay holds him close and apologizes for leaving his baby boy alone for his post heat haze. His heat was apparently lighter than he even knew, ending a day earlier than it always did, and so Vijay hadn’t known to be available. It still chafes a little, knowing that before his spike in popularity, the alpha would always have been there in his dorm at that time of day. 

Malcolm brushes it off. 

Vijay tells him he doesn’t have to come to any parties he doesn't want to.

Malcolm agrees, only forcing himself to go every now and then when he’s feeling too needy, too lonely without his alpha in the evenings.

Eventually, the invitations stop coming.

Malcolm brushes it off, even as his heart clenches. Surely, it’s just because the alpha knows how much he hates them.

The day that he goes into preheat and Vijay doesn’t cuddle with him, doesn’t scent a single item of clothing, doesn’t seem to _care_ , it breaks. Malcolm sits locked in one of the school heat rooms, crying and sobbing for his alpha. He used the same scent for so long now that its absence feels like a rejection. He pleads. He promises to be better. (He doesn’t know what better means.) He wrings out _so many_ unsatisfying orgasms, feeling chafed and raw and _wrong_ by the time he wanders back to his dorm. 

It takes a few days of avoiding Vijay to realize that he probably didn’t need to bother. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I'm really hoping the final chapter won't take me so long to post! Sorry for making y'all wait <3
> 
> I also realized I somehow never gave this fic a summary... fixed that now


	4. Chapter 4

## Now

When Malcolm postulated that the group was mostly alphas, he never thought he would actually have to meet them without his blockers on. He’s thrilled, of course, to be right about it, but the fact that there’s only one omega in the bunch other than him is unsettling. Their eyes linger on him. He can _feel_ it. His shirt covers too much for them to confirm if he has a mating bite, but thanks to Vijay, he knows he only smells like a beta — like Eve. 

There’s nothing stopping these alphas from getting aggressive with him. Nothing but Vijay and maybe the omega woman, Sheila.

Malcolm does his best to detach himself from the situation, to sink into the role of appraiser and coworker, to focus on figuring out which one of these alphas (or omega) is their killer. He brushes off Vijay’s awkward posturing and convinces him to do the same.

One by one, each member of the crew comes by to inspect him, nostrils flaring, eyes intent. They’re testing him. He’s sure it’s odd for an unbound omega to work with so many unbound alphas in such a small space, especially in shady circumstances like these. They get close. They stare. They question what he’s doing and why. Even Sheila joins in, although her scrutiny carries a different weight. 

He’s pretty sure she’s clocked his feelings for Vijay already.

It ends when he pushes one of the alphas too far and gets slapped for it. The rest of the gang jumps to their feet, but oddly enough, Malcolm feels no fear. They’re not reacting to their coworker’s temper as much as his choice of target. He gets the feeling excessive force against omegas isn’t necessarily accepted in this group. Especially not by their leader.

Vijay reacts to it, too, finally accepting whatever terms he’s been haggling with Cooper over. The friendly grin on his face fades at the sight of Malcolm still on the concrete floor. 

And then it all _really_ goes to shit with three simple words.

“He’s a cop.”

The atmosphere shifts. Suddenly, the rest of the gang shifts their attention back to Malcolm, eyes cold, hackles raised. He can’t help the way his gaze drifts over to Vijay. The alpha who slapped him, a man by the name of Grant, hauls him up to his feet as Cooper deliberates on what to do. 

Malcolm expects they’ll single him out. He’s the cop, after all. They won’t go easy on Vijay, but they’ve been in talks with him before. 

But Cooper slams his fist into the back of Vijay’s head, sending him to the floor.

“Coop, what are you doing?” Vijay says, just as shocked as Malcolm is, his scent souring. He gently touches the back of his head. “You know I’m legit. I just transferred thirty percent to your account.”

Malcolm clenches his jaw. He understands what’s happening now. Evidently, the group’s omega isn’t the only one who saw his feelings written all over him. Cooper has been in the game longer than most of the rest of his crew, and he knows better than to think they could get something out of Malcolm too easily. 

No, he’s smart enough to realize that Vijay is the better target. 

The alpha gang leader delivers a swift kick to Vijay’s chest, cutting off whatever he was saying. When that doesn’t do the trick, he does it again and again and _again_. 

Each one reverberates through Malcolm’s chest.

“The question is,” Cooper says, looking down at him, “how much pain gets me the truth? Who is he?” He pulls his leg back for another kick.

And Malcolm can’t take it any longer. No matter the pain Vijay has caused him in the past, no matter how much he wishes he could stop caring, he can’t stand by and let this happen. “Stop,” he shouts as he darts forward. His heart twists seeing Vijay curl into himself and cough, his citrus sharp with agony. “ _Stop_. I’m not a cop.” He takes a deep breath. The air is filled with their hostility, and he nearly chokes on it. “But — I do work with the NYPD. I’m a profiler.”

“Close enough,” the youngest alpha says. He doesn’t hesitate to point a gun at Malcolm. He’d probably pull the trigger, too, if not for the way Cooper steps in again. 

Malcolm was right. He can see the reluctance in Cooper’s eyes. The alpha doesn’t run his gang on violence against omegas and definitely not on _reckless murder_. Still, it’s clear he won’t be getting out of this unharmed. Hell, he’ll probably die some way or another, because now he knows too much. Now he’s seen their faces. They know he’s a cop, and Cooper, at the very least, can tell he won’t be silenced. He swallows. “Leave Vijay out of this,” Malcolm suggests, pointedly not looking at the alpha on the floor. He doesn’t bother trying to hold back the worried edge of his scent. Maybe it will convince them he’s serious. “If you ever want to see the rest of your money, don’t hurt him.” 

“Excellent point,” Vijay pipes up from the floor. He smells a little lighter. Hopeful. “Thanks, buddy.”

It makes Malcolm grimace. _Buddy_. He lets himself look at the alpha now, and maybe it was the wrong decision, because there’s something soft in his expression that makes what Malcolm has to do all the more painful. “Shut up,” he demands, _pleads_. “Let me handle this.”

He gets the slightest of nods in return. It’s enough.

“Alex,” Cooper interrupts, looking at the young alpha who pulled the gun on Malcolm, “take Vijay back to the docks. Help him with the merchandise.” Although he doesn’t move from his position, he radiates leadership. Alex doesn’t argue with his instructions, hauling Vijay up off the floor. “I’ll take care of this profiler.” His face is blank. It’s _possible_ he hasn’t decided quite what to do with the omega.

Malcolm isn’t stupid enough to think it will work in his favor.

But while he doesn’t say a word, Vijay can’t let it go. “Woah, hold on,” he says and gets a shove for his trouble. He nearly tips over. “ _Hold on!_ ”

Malcolm’s eyes slip shut. Why the alpha can’t just let him save him is beyond him. 

“I can’t leave without him,” Vijay says stubbornly. He’s still struggling to regain his balance, still wincing as he moves, still in no shape to do _anything_ confrontational. It doesn’t matter. It never really has with him. 

Not for the first time in his life, Malcolm curses Vijay’s confidence. 

Cooper stares at the rumpled alpha, amused. He has all of the power here, and he knows it. “You’re in no position to negotiate.”

The citrus in the air practically burns with panic. Vijay looks to Malcolm desperately. “He’s my mate,” he blurts out. Then he winces. They don’t smell like each other, not the way they used to back in boarding school. There’s no evidence of scenting or courtship or even casual touching. “Okay, he’s not. But he will be.”

It’s an odd sensation, the way his heart simultaneously swells and sinks. Malcolm has missed Vijay’s matter-of-fact possessiveness, the way he always used to claim him as if it was inevitable. It always made him feel wanted. Now? The timing is horrible. Shaking his head, grimacing in frustration, Malcolm lets all of the pain both present and past touch his scent. “Mates?” he says, scoffing. The blurriness building at the corners of his eyes isn’t acting. “ _Don’t,_ Vijay.”

He tries not to notice how Vijay stills or how his face drops, reflecting all of the hurt they both feel. 

“I know what happens next,” Malcolm insists, pushing on through. He’s aware that he’s gesturing wildly, but he doesn’t _care_. “You’re gonna leave. You have to. _I get it._ ” He bites his lip and lets the physical pain ground him. His own scent burns acrid in his nose. He thinks about that first heat without Vijay’s scent. He thinks about how utterly rejected he felt. “I knew I shouldn’t have come. I knew it in school!” Hasn’t he wanted to say these things for years? It doesn’t feel as good as he used to imagine it would. 

His only hope is that the alpha gets what he’s trying to _actually_ say. 

For as loud as Malcolm was, Vijay is just as quiet. “Really,” he murmurs. “You’re gonna bring up… school. _Here?_ ” Whatever shock stilled him wears off, transitioning into anger. He smells hurt, so hurt. “What the hell does that even _mean?_ ”

Desperate, Malcolm gets in his face as much as he can without anyone in the crew pulling them apart. “I never could trust you.” Bile rises in his throat. “You’re just like your dad. _Go!_ Save your own ass.” Up so close, Vijay’s hurt expression pains him even more than he thought possible. “Get in your Bentley, and go.”

Cooper jerks his head at Alex and Pete, the fourth and final alpha in the gang. They each grab one of Vijay’s arms and drag him to the car. 

Too shocked by Malcolm’s words, all Vijay can do is sputter. “I drive a vintage Porsche!”

It’s quite possibly the last time the omega will see him. He’s still holding out hope that Vijay will understand, but otherwise, unless Gil can find him in time, Malcolm won’t be walking out of this warehouse. “That’ll work, too,” he says, resigned. “Just go!”

The car doors slam shut, and then he’s alone with three alphas and an omega, all of them save for Cooper looking at him with hostility. The leader orders Grant and Pete to tie him up. There’s no use in fighting it, so Malcolm doesn’t. They’re rough with him regardless. They secure him to a chair, his hair loose, his cheek red from being slapped.

Cooper takes a seat without the ropes. “So,” he says idly. “Why does a profiler care about a bunch of thieves?” His scent doesn’t give away much, if anything, unlike the other three in the room, whose distrust can be smelled a mile away. He’s not the killer. 

He’s dangerous all the same.

Malcolm looks at him warily. 

Across the room, Grant bristles. But he’s not the one Malcolm has to concern himself with. Cooper is in charge for now. Until it becomes clear who the killer among them is, Cooper is the one to watch, and so Malcolm doesn’t take his eyes off of the calm alpha. He won’t stand for any of his crew doing something he doesn’t approve of. 

He also doesn’t trust them. It’s an interesting development, one that gives Malcolm some measure of hope. Now he’s not just a profiler, a cop by association. He’s an asset. Assets don’t get shot while they still have a use. If anything, Cooper being the leader here skews the situation in his favor more. The alpha trusted an omega enough to have her in his gang for five years, and that indicates that he could be willing to trust Malcolm’s skills and instincts unlike the other two alphas in the room. 

Malcolm keeps his attention on Cooper the whole time he lays out the words the alpha isn’t willing to say. He ignores any outbursts from the rest of the room. He meets Cooper’s eyes and watches for any shifts. There’s no change in his scent, which makes his body and facial expressions all the more important. 

“Is he right?” Grant looks between them restlessly. Although he seems less outwardly hostile, Malcolm can tell it won’t take much to tip him over again. Hopefully not in _Malcolm’s_ direction this time. “His profile?”

He breaks his stare with Cooper for the first time. “Yes, I’m right.” Something within him eases when Grant looks contemplative. The chances of him lasting until Gil can arrive are slowly rising. Part of him, the most wistful part, the part that lies beneath the shell he’s created for himself, is holding out for Vijay, too. He looks back at Cooper. “Almost _always_.”

Cooper meets his eyes but otherwise barely moves. “So who is it?”

Malcolm does what he does best. He starts with the obvious. There are similarities between Cooper’s scent and Alex’s, not to mention the resemblance, and that makes it likely they’re family. “You sent him with Vijay, so you trust him,” he says simply. Cooper doesn’t dispute it. “You can’t say the same for these three.”

Instantly, the air becomes thick with indignation, rage. It’s not coming from any one person. In fact, the only thing Malcolm is sure of is that none of it comes from Cooper, who has averted his eyes to the floor, practically screaming a confirmation. He _doesn’t_ trust them. Malcolm lets them rage at him for a minute. His instincts are going wild in the face of it. Only his training in the FBI allows him to push them down. He bites his cheek to try and settle himself.

It only gets worse once he singles out Sheila. Just as he said at the beginning of the case, the single omega on the team is the only reason these alphas have managed to work together for as long as they have. Her presence, her scent — all of it helps cut through the aggression of two or three or _four_ alphas butting heads. They aren’t a real pack, of course, but her function as the pseudo pack omega does grease the wheels. Malcolm suspects her designation and skills made her the perfect hire for Cooper’s crew. 

Anxiety ratcheting up, he tries to keep his voice calm and quiet. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

She narrows her eyes. “Go ahead. Just don’t assume you being an omega means anything.”

Malcolm nods and takes a slow breath. “Do you have curly hair?” Like all of the victims. Now that he thinks of it, they were omegas, too. Two murdered omega women with dark curly hair is suspicious. Three would be the beginnings of a pattern.

Of course she does. Her hair springs out of her beanie and wafts her scent, something deep and rich, through the room. 

Everything falls into place. Malcolm looks at Grant and Pete in turn, and, in a matter of seconds, he knows who their killer is. He looks down, aware of how badly this could go now, with him still tied up and Gil (and _Vijay_ ) still nowhere to be found. “How long have you been in love with Sheila, Pete?” 

There’s a sharp spike of angry alpha scent. It gives him away before he can say a word. Cooper and Sheila focus on Pete, bodies taut and ready for confrontation. Only Grant is still shocked. 

And then it all blows up. 

Malcolm watches warily as Pete and Sheila pull guns out on each other. It’s only natural that the rest of the pack falls apart after that. Grant pulls his gun out. Cooper makes a valiant effort to rein them all back in, but his control of the situation was shot as soon as the fragile peace Sheila brought to the group broke. All he manages to do is make Grant turn his gun onto him. _Maybe_ the group could have been salvaged if Cooper let them take out Pete.

“Listen,” the alpha leader demands. “We’re still a team. We don’t have to kill each other.”

Malcolm keeps his eyes on Pete, his nose twitching as the tension skyrockets. His best chance of survival now is in that man dying in whatever shootout results. Grant wouldn’t be adverse to killing him, either, but Cooper and Sheila might be able to convince him to back off — _if_ they survive. He places all of his bets and opens his mouth to point out the obvious. “Problem is, one of you does.” 

The sound of gunfire fills the room.

It’s the last thing Malcolm remembers before his head hits the concrete. 

~

When he comes to, it’s not a slow process. His mind immediately puts a name to the scent wafting into the room, and his eyes snap open, frantic and confused. 

There’s no reason he should be smelling those damp, earthy tones.

His father is still at Claremont. 

“That was _impressive_ ,” his father drawls, and there’s a hint of satisfaction in the way his scent curls and deepens.

Malcolm blinks and tilts his head to look up at his bearer. This can’t be real, yet everything is as it was. He’s on his back. The chair supports his legs, still propped up and bent at the knee. There are four bodies sprawled on the floor in a circle before him. He swallows, not bothering to get up. “Am I dead?”

Smiling that soft, loving smile he always pulled out for the scrapes and bruises, his father stops by his head. “No. Just shaking off one seriously crunchy crack to the back of your occipital bone. I want to run you through a CT scanner.” He wanders farther into the space. His smile grows and twists at the corpses. “If you survive this. _Killer._ ”

Malcolm moves at that, propping himself up on his elbows. It doesn’t hurt to move. In fact, the chair beneath him is gone and no longer digging into his back. “I’m not,” he insists. He’s _not_. He’s worked hard to put killers behind bars, not become one. No matter how many roadblocks he hit as an omega and a _Whitly_ , he pushed through them to do what he thought was right. 

“A killer? A murderer? Psycho?” His father shakes his head and chuckles as if he’s still an ignorant child. “I beg to differ.” He pointedly looks around at the circle of bodies. His scent rises again.

It’s so much like Malcolm’s own. He reminds himself that this isn’t real. Martin Whitly’s scent is mapped to his brain. He would recognize his bearer anywhere, and his mind can easily conjure up the right shade of petrichor, too. “I didn’t shoot anybody.” 

Stopping in the middle of the circle, his father meets his eyes gleefully. “Oh, you didn’t pull the triggers or load the guns. No, no, no. You loaded their minds,” he explains and lifts a hand to point at his head. His scent is unbearably strong now, unbearably smug. There’s no hint of blood or death beyond it. “Oh, my boy, it was a work of genius. You don’t need a pack or a mate. Forget that silly alpha.”

Oddly enough, that’s what Malcolm needs to shake him off. He _has_ a pack. He has the team. He has Gil and Ainsley and his mother. And a mate? Hours ago, he would have agreed that maybe he didn’t deserve a mate. Now, his mind reminds him of Vijay’s desperate plea. _He’s my mate._ Vijay is smart. He’ll have understood what Malcolm was really saying. He’ll come back for him, even if he doesn’t actually want him the way he promised so many years ago. 

“Like omega father, like omega son,” his father finishes.

Malcolm shakes his head defiantly. “You’re wrong. You’re not even him. You’re just an amalgamation of scent memories and fear.”

“Also true.” His father shrugs. “Oh well. You might want to wake up.” He grins again, completely unfazed, and leans in, voice at a stage whisper. “They’re not all dead. I don’t think that alpha will be too gentle with you if you’re still here when he wakes, my boy.” His gaze drifts over to Pete’s body sprawled across the floor. 

Like that, Malcolm wakes up for real. The only hint of earthiness he can smell is his own. He takes deep breaths to reassure himself.

A few feet away, Sheila desperately tries to get up. A few feet from _her_ , Pete does the same.

Malcolm is still sitting in the chair despite having been knocked on his back, but the impact broke the back panel, giving him the room to untangle himself from the mess of ropes and get to his feet. He takes stock of the situation. Grant is dead, which would be good for him if not for the fact that Cooper is, too. Even that would be okay, if Pete wasn’t using his gun to push himself onto unsteady feet. Sheila isn’t so lucky. Malcolm stills as she looks up at her ex-coworker in fear.

The sour scent of it fills the space. 

Pete looks grimly satisfied. He raises the gun.

“Don’t do it,” Malcolm shouts. 

The good news is that it diverts the alpha’s attention from Sheila, allowing her to crawl away as best she can. The bad news is that the alpha gives all of his attention to Malcolm. His eyes are intent, quietly enraged. He’s going to kill both of them just like he did the other two omegas, but he’ll gladly start with Malcolm. He staggers towards him as he rants.

So Malcolm does the only thing he can think to stall him. He talks. “What happened, Pete?” Anything to give Gil (Vijay!) time to arrive. To give Sheila time to get away.

Of course, Pete hasn’t really forgotten about her. She holds back a sob as his manic eyes turn on her again.

Malcolm slowly moves forward until he’s right behind her in some kind of useless solidarity. There’s nothing he can do. Pete is the only one with a gun. He feels numb.

The roaring of an engine distracts them all. The tires of the Porsche squeal against the concrete, coming right for the alpha caught in the headlights.

As Pete screams and shoots at the windshield, as Sheila frantically pulls herself across the floor, Malcolm staggers back, something giddy welling up in his chest. He can’t help but grin. Seeing Vijay through the windows makes him feel so _warm_. His feet move without his permission. He stumbles over the other omega. He barely pauses to watch the way Pete rolls over the hood of the car and off the trunk, slamming to the ground with a thick thud. 

“Woohoo!” With that, Vijay gets out of the car on jelly legs. His scent is so bright, so happy and relieved and _intoxicating_. He makes his way towards Malcolm without a moment’s hesitation.

“You did it,” Malcolm says breathlessly, arms spreading out wide. “You came back for me.” His cheeks burn, but he wouldn’t take a single word back. He inhales deeply. His body sings with the sweet tang of citrus in the air. Vijay smells like dessert, and Malcolm has always had a sweet tooth.

Vijay looks at him so lovingly that it almost hurts. “Of course.” He says something else, too, rambling on about something, but the matter-of-fact confirmation is a heady thing. “... that was the plan, right?”

In the back of his mind, Malcolm registers that this is odd. He shouldn’t feel this light. It’s too extreme a reaction. He’s been in plenty of near-death situations before, and never has he been affected this way. His brow creases, but he shakes it off. “I just can’t believe it worked.” 

“I couldn’t leave you behind,” Vijay says firmly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

The beginnings of a whine rise up in his chest and escape before Malcolm can stop it.

They both freeze.

Vijay’s grip on him spasms. His nostrils flare, his pupils dilating as he finally notices the scent building between them. “Are you in heat, baby boy?” 

Without realizing it, Malcolm finds himself leaning in. Vijay hit the nail on the head. His heat should be weeks away, but now that the word is out there, hovering between them, it’s undeniable that that’s what’s happening. The warmth that he felt, the way he gravitated towards the alpha, the floating feeling that sweet scent builds within him — he’s been thrown right into a heat. Soon enough, he’ll start getting slick. He already finds himself tugging at his tie. He’s not feeling warm anymore. He’s _burning_. “I think so.”

The fear sets in. Not fear of being taken advantage of. No, it’s the fear of rejection. Vijay has already put him aside once.

But the alpha looks anything but dissuaded. “Can I…?” His hand drifts closer to Malcolm’s half-covered neck, thumb brushing along the skin right next to his collar.

Malcolm yanks his tie off with deft hands and unbuttons the top two buttons on his shirt. He shudders as Vijay’s fingers brush the fabric aside. This time, he doesn’t even think to hold back the whine at the alpha’s touch. _His_ alpha’s touch. The setting doesn’t matter. He has half a mind to strip and present right then and there.

“Bright!”

Vijay makes a displeased sound, but both of them turn at the voice. The omega because he instinctually recognizes it, and the alpha out of respect.

It’s Gil. His face is twisted with wariness and distrust. He lowers his gun at the sight in front of him, immediately putting out an arm to stop Dani from walking any closer. “Powell,” he barks, “back up.”

She hesitates. If Vijay was a more stereotypical alpha in his aggression, she might have regretted it. She carefully takes several steps back.

“Kid,” Gil says, tone softening, though his face doesn’t ease, eyes trained on Vijay, “your heat leave isn’t for another three weeks.”

Malcolm gives him a sheepish look. It must be tinged with the euphoria he still feels coursing through him. Vijay hasn’t let go of him. “I know.”

Triggered heats aren’t rare, but they don’t happen terribly often. Usually, it’s the omega’s body’s way of kicking an extended courtship into gear. Not that it traps the alpha in anything, of course. They can step away or at least refrain from bonding easy enough if they’re not attracted to the omega in question. Besides, the heat has to be triggered by an _outside_ source. He’s wanted this for so long, and Vijay coming back stirred all of it up again, so it’s not surprising that the alpha listening to him — saving him — did the trick. His body knows he wants this.

Vijay wants this, too, if the thumb caressing his bonding gland means anything.

A lot crosses Gil’s face in the silence that follows. None of it approaches happy. Still, he nods to himself and glances at Sheila, Pete, and the two dead gang members. “Can you two hold off until we clear the room?” He looks at Malcolm apologetically. He knows all too well how itchy the heat is making him.

“Yeah, of course,” Malcolm says, quick and short.

Vijay smiles. It’s a shaky one. “No problemo, Boss man.” 

Already seeing the potential fallout from Dani and Gil having to get so close to them, Malcolm tugs the alpha closer to the front of the Porsche to give them room, careful not to touch him too much. He has no intention of losing himself in front of his pseudo-bearer and coworker. Thankfully, Vijay moves without fuss, quite happy to go wherever his omega leads him. 

Gil gives Dani a few quiet instructions, and they get moving. First they take care of the two surviving criminals. While Dani helps Sheila to her feet, supporting her on the way out of the warehouse, Gil crouches down and hefts Pete up over his shoulder with a grunt. They’ll probably be cuffed somewhere outside and far apart from each other until backup arrives. 

By the time Gil comes back in, JT is with him. The alpha detective gives Malcolm a nod in greeting. Together, he and Gil get the two bodies out to where Edrisa and her team are no doubt waiting. 

Malcolm makes a mental note to apologize to her later for disturbing the scene. He can only hope he remembers. His shirt feels damp with sweat. He shifts and takes a shallow breath. He’s wet and aching and needs them to be _gone_. 

Before leaving them alone, Gil slips back into the room and eyes up Vijay one last time. He turns to Malcolm. “Your loft is stocked,” he says, and it’s not a question. They both know he’s always been good at restocking immediately after his heats. He’s never shared a heat, but he never completely depletes his supplies, either. “Get there as soon as the first wave is over, if you can.” 

“I’ll be fine, Gil,” Malcolm reassures him. For the first time in a long time, it doesn’t feel like a lie. 

And then the other omega is gone. 

It’s just the two of them. Alpha and omega. Vijay and Malcolm. 

Malcolm immediately unbuttons the rest of his shirt and vest, not caring that he practically rips a few of them off. He shivers as warm hands slide underneath the fabric to push it all off his shoulders. His shirt, vest, and jacket fall to the ground in a heap. Those hands glide along his skin up to his neck, and he’s being pulled into a hungry kiss. He grips onto Vijay desperately. Their scents are already mingling, lemon bars and thunderstorms.

Almost mindlessly, Vijay herds him to the closest surface, which just so happens to be the hood of the Porsche. 

They break the kiss as Malcolm lets his body fall back onto it. He reaches for the closure of his pants, spurred on by his alpha lifting his legs to pull his shoes off. He arches and lifts his ass up off the car when Vijay’s hands grip the slacks and _yank_. The heat is really setting in now. The cool car hood is a blessing against his hot skin. 

Vijay only lets go of him to unzip his pants, hands quick and desperate. He pulls himself out and hisses at the cool air. “ _Fuck_ , baby boy,” he says as he reaches for the last article of clothing between his throbbing cock and Malcolm’s hole. “This is definitely not how I imagined this.” 

The boxer briefs slip to the floor between them. 

“C’mon, _alpha_.” Malcolm stares up at him, sweaty and flushed and not in the mood to draw this out right now.

Vijay grabs him by the thighs and pulls his body closer to the edge of the hood. Letting go of one of them, he rubs the head of his cock against his crack, dragging it through the slick there. 

They both groan. 

When he finally does sink in, teeth clenched as they join together for the first time, Malcolm is quick to wrap his legs around him. The omega locks his ankles and uses the leverage to encourage him closer. His head smacks the hood as Vijay hilts. He’s trembling. He’s no virgin, of course, but this is new. 

Everything is so much more intense in a heat. _Fuck_ , he felt so empty, and now, with Vijay’s hips pressed up against his ass, he’s _stuffed_. A normal heat makes his body feel like it’s burning up. Toys help, sure. They just never made him light up the way his alpha’s cock does. Malcolm scrabbles at the car uselessly, trying to get a solid grip while he sorts himself out. 

Vijay has other ideas. He buries his face in the omega’s neck and scrapes his teeth against the sensitive skin there. His instincts won’t urge him to bite down until they’re locked together, and on that fact alone, he tightens his grip on Malcolm, rocks out, and fucks right back into him. He’s muttering something unintelligible, something desperate.

One arm swinging across the alpha’s back, Malcolm gasps. “ _Vijay_ ,” he says, ankles digging into him. “Fuck, _fuck_.”

And Vijay does. He pulls back to lock their lips sloppily. He’s not in rut, but he’s getting drunk off the thick scent rising up off of Malcolm’s skin. “Used to dream about this,” he breathes out as he breaks the kiss. 

Malcolm laughs deliriously. “Me, too.” His dick is leaking all over his stomach now, twitching with almost every thrust, and he knows it won’t be long now. “ _Please_ , Vijay.”

The slick drag in and out is intoxicating. Vijay’s fingers dig into his skin as he picks up the pace. Each snap of his hips pushes the omega up the hood a little, each tug back bringing him to where he started. His knot is swelling, too. It catches on Malcolm’s hole, the omega’s body trying to keep hold of it. 

The increase in friction, the slight pull on his sensitive rim — Malcolm falls apart with a cry.

Vijay fucks him through it, cursing and sweating until his knot swells too much to thrust anymore. He collapses over Malcolm. The soft, smooth material of his suit rubs against the omega’s chest. “Can I?” he murmurs against his neck.

With a shudder, Malcolm’s hand slides from his back up to the back of Vijay’s neck. He holds him there. “Do it.”

Vijay bites down. His hips twitch as the bond snaps into place. He removes his teeth and kisses the bloody mark tiredly. “C’mon, baby boy, bite me back.”

It’s a little harder since he’s covered by the alpha, but Malcolm manages to lay his claim, too. The thread between them strengthens. 

They breathe as it settles. 

“How’d you imagine it?” Malcolm says suddenly. 

Vijay lifts his head, brows creased. “What now?”

“You said this isn’t how you imagined it,” the omega clarifies.

Mouth forming a silent _oh_ , Vijay pushes himself up to a standing position, careful not to pull at where they’re still knotted. “Let’s get to a more comfortable place first.” He eases Malcolm up, too, and encourages him to wrap his arms around his neck. “Hold on, baby boy.” With a soft grunt, Vijay lifts him up and staggers back to the wall. He leans back and lets his body slide down until he’s sitting on the ground, Malcolm in his lap. 

Naked and unashamed, Malcolm drapes himself over Vijay and knocks their foreheads together. “So?” 

Vijay flushes. “I thought I’d woo you, first, you know. And there’d be a bed.” He grins. “But hey, it’s not every day you mate on the hood of a vintage Porsche, right?”

Malcolm snorts and gives him a quick kiss. 

## 9th Grade

Heats always leave him feeling sluggish. Days of frantically trying to sate his body, of crying out for an alpha, of wishing he could nest in his own room back home is a tiring experience, to say the least.

This time, however, he walks out of the heat rooms feeling less frustrated. He reddens as he signs out with the nurse. She’s probably seen it all before, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s never done _this_ before. He’s never had an alpha’s scent with him. It made a world of difference. He still begged for an alpha — for Vijay — and yet, he never felt lonely the way he used to. Vijay’s citrusy sweet scent was in his nose, wrapped around him during breaks. His body relaxed because of it. The franticness was lessened. He ached, of course. 

But he had an alpha, in a manner of speaking, and so he ached substantially _less_. 

Malcolm falls into his dorm bed with a groan. He needs to shower again. He needs to eat. He needs to see Vijay. 

Falling asleep in no time at all, only a firm knock on his door wakes him.

“Hey baby boy,” Vijay says, nose twitching as he gets a hint of the remnants of Malcolm’s heat mixed with his own scent. It should be light now, after his initial shower at the nurse’s office. The alpha’s hand clenches on the door frame. “C’mon, let’s go be snuggle bugs.”

Malcolm lets the alpha guide him to one of the less popular common rooms. They curl up on the couch there. Although they can’t do this in one of their dorms, there are no school rules to stop them here. He melts into Vijay’s arms. Vijay has already hit his growth spurt even though Malcolm hasn’t, and so they slot together so easily. His body instinctually recognizes his courting alpha. “Missed you.”

“Me, too.” Vijay lays a soft kiss on his hairline. “I can’t wait until we can bond.” He gives him a goofy grin. “The corner table boys together _forever_.”

Malcolm hides his shy smile against the alpha. “Mr. and Mr. Chandasara,” he says, muffled. They’ve already talked about it. Neither of them minded him dropping the Whitly name.

“Word.” Vijay is silent for a moment, and Malcolm is, too, taking in the fresh alpha scent around him. “We’ll be better, you know.”

It doesn’t quite register at first. “Hm?”

“Better fathers,” Vijay says, uncharacteristically quiet. “Both of us.”

Malcolm pulls back to look him in the eyes and grins. His vision is starting to blur, and he blinks to clear the tears. “ _Duh_.”

Dammit if he doesn’t love this alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done!! This one was a wild ride, but I'm really happy to have finished it. I hope y'all enjoy reading this chapter as much as I did writing it!


End file.
